Jim Kirk's Very Important Mission
by Skiefyer
Summary: Jim Kirk had a mission. Jim Kirk had a very important mission. Jim Kirk had a mission so very important, he swore to those around him, that earth, no, the entire galaxy, would implode if said mission was not completed. The mission? To one-up Spock...
1. Chapter 1

Jim Kirk had a mission. Jim Kirk had a very important mission. Jim Kirk had a mission so very important, he swore to those around him, that earth, no, the entire galaxy, would implode if said mission was not completed. As it was, he reasoned, his mission was not so incredibly important that it required the presence of his first officer. With that short and rather cryptic piece of information, he sent Spock off on an early lunchbreak – or something to that effect. One raised eyebrow and a muttered 'at your request, captain' later, and Jim was alone with a somewhat apprehensive bridge crew. As Jim settled into his comfy chair he felt the anxiety in the atmosphere rise palpably. Hearing a commotion, he smirked. _And three, two, one._

The doors burst open, well, as much as sliding doors are in fact capable of bursting open, as McCoy rushed in, hypospray at the ready.

"What happened?" he yelled, "where's Jim? I swear to God if he's…" he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Jim spinning childishly in his chair. Unhurt and unharmed. Annoyance, his emotional-best friend, flickered across his face before being rapidly replaced by his second-best friend, rage.

"What the hell Jim?" he raged as ensigns and lieutenants hurried to get out of his path. A _happy _McCoy was a scary McCoy, and a raging one was downright terrifying. No one aboard the Enterprise (or any other ship for that matter) had access to such a varied range of torture weapons as the perpetually irritated doctor.

"Calm down, bones" Jim grinned "I needed you here for a special, very important, mission."

"Dammit Jim you called me citing a _medical emergency on the bridge_. The communication systems are not here to pander to your every god-damn childish, juvenile, delinquent – what mission?" he asked suspiciously.

"Uh uh," Jim waved a finger, "we can't begin until the final participant arrives."

"Participant?" McCoy spluttered, "What kind of god-damned childish…game are you playing?"

"Oh sit down," Jim motioned with his hand, "and that's an order."

McCoy grumbled but did as ordered, choosing to shun the seat offered to him in favour of one much further away from the current bane of his existence.

"Scotty!" Jim cried happily as the chief engineer walked through the door, "you're here!"

"Aye laddie," Scotty replied, scratching his head in confusion, "although ah must confess to some confusion as to why?"

"You're all here," Jim began, trying his utmost to sound secretive and mysterious, "to help with a very important mission."

"Enough with the 'very important mission' crap, goddammit Jim!" McCoy snarled, "Get to the goddamn point."

Jim sighed, "Always determined to spoil my fun, huh, bones?"

At McCoy's death glare of doom, Jim hurried to elaborate upon his mission.

"Okay, okay. The mission at hand is very important," he said quickly, unable to help himself, "and will require some kind of participation from all of you." He scanned their faces, "it will be near impossible to achieve but I know we can do it." With the exception of McCoy who just _knew_ this spelt trouble, the crew were intrigued.

"The mission," Jim announced, "is to one-up Spock in a conversation, debate, err, thing." The crew were stunned. McCoy buried his face in his hands, "I just knew it Goddammit, I just knew it."

"Oh come on guys," Jim pleaded, "no one _ever _beats him, not even Bones! I see that smug look in his smug Vulcan eyes every time he says 'your logic is, predictably, non-existent'," he mocked, "you're not seriously telling me none of you want to wipe that smug smile of his smu-"

"Kirk," Nyota sighed, "Spock is a _Vulcan_, he-"

"Yeah, yeah I know," Jim waved it aside, "he doesn't get smug. Look are you lot in or not?" he looked pointedly at McCoy.

"Oh Hell no," McCoy shook his head, "uh uh, no goddamn way."

Jim put on his best puppy-dog face and pouted, "please?"

"No. This is _not my God-damn problem, Goddammit!_"

"But don't you want to-"

"No."

"wipe that-"

"No."

"smug smile-"

"No means no." McCoy stood, shook his head emphatically and stormed out of the bridge.

"Hmph," Jim pouted," who needs him anyway." He brightened, "Scotty?"

But the engineer was shaking his head.

"I cannae do that laddie, again, as before, I'd rather not take sides."

"Whatever," Jim scowled, "Uhura?"

She raised an eyebrow. A gesture learnt from Spock no doubt.

"Oookay, no then. Sulu?"

"Sorry, Captain. I value my life."

"As do I." Chekov piped up before Jim could turn what he knew would be an irresistible pout upon him. Hero worship could only go so far.

"Oh come on guys!" When no reply was forthcoming he stood somewhat angrily and announced that he would, himself, beat Spock in a conversation, debate, err, thing. He told himself the laughter ringing in his ears would soon be silenced forever when he managed to do so. _That's right, _he thought smugly, _Watch out Spock, 'cause Captain Kirk's going where no man has gone before._

A/N: That actually wasn't meant to sound like it does. Truly.

Well, err, let me know if I should continue I guess…


	2. Chapter 2

As the dark sky faded into a imperceptibly lighter shade of black, and the stars continued to shine at a constant level of brightness; Jim Kirk yawned, his internal alarm clock telling him it was 'dawn' and therefore time to rise, and promptly rolled over burying his head in his pillow. He remained that way for half a glorious hour before a sharp rap on his door alerted him to the fact that his First Officer was currently standing outside it. _Perfect,_ he smiled inwardly and repressed the urge to chuckle childishly, _no time like the present to begin 'Operation One-up Spock'._ Rolling lithely onto his feet he sauntered over to the door and jammed the button. Taking advantage of the few seconds it took to open, he lent casually against the door, hand on his hip, and grinned cockily.

"Why hello there, Spock" he greeted cheerfully, "what brings you to my quarters?"

Spock raised an eyebrow and said nothing. Somehow though, he managed to communicate that 1. He thought Jim was an idiot, 2. He thought Jim was inappropriately dressed, and 3. Jim was late for his shift.

"Oh yeah," Jim muttered and let the door slide closed. Damn Spock was good. He hadn't even said a word and he _still _managed to shut him up. _I'm going to have to up the ant…ante, or whatever. _He fervently hoped no one had witnessed the triple S (Spock's Silent Shutdown). Hurriedly pulling on his uniform, Jim started for the door and promptly tripped over the two pant legs he'd managed to put over the same foot.

"Damn," he swore as his hand smacked the door button on the way down causing him to land unceremoniously at the feet of his unamused First Officer. At least, to the untrained eye he _seemed_ unamused. Jim could've sworn however that he saw a brief smirk flicker across the stoic Vulcan's face. Spock, of course, would deny it later. As it was, it seemed even Spock was unable to resist a quick taunt.

"Captain? You seem to have, as you humans say, fallen head over heels for me."

Even though all observers would testify that Spock's monotone remained intact, Jim just _knew _he had heard laughter in his voice. He looked up, and there it was; That Smug Smirk. You see? He wanted to yell at the onlookers, Vulcans' _do _get smug. But of course, he'd bet his bottom dollar that no-one else would have seen it. Of course they wouldn't, you actually had to look for it to see it. And no one was looking because it's common knowledge that Vulcans' don't show emotion. Leaping upright and trying to look as dignified as he possibly could, given that he'd just been sprawled across his First Officer's feet, Jim pasted a cocky smile on his face and gave it his best; which is to say, he turned on the 'charm'.

"Well you're quite the prince charming." He said, and then faltered, hang on, how was that an insult?

Spock raised his eyebrow and performed the triple S. Some of the onlookers guffawed. _Crap_, Jim panicked. _Okay, I'd better run away...I mean, affect a tactical retreat. Yeah, I'll get him later. I just need time to prepare._ With that Jim muttered something like "have to go do captain stuff", pushed past Spock and fled (in a dignified, captainly way). He was mortified when, upon passing the memo board, he spotted one bearing the title "Kirk vs. Spock: who will win? (Who do you think? Yeah, that's what I thought: Spock). He was even more mortified when, upon closer inspection, he saw that Spock already had two points and that he had none. Furious, he stormed onto the bridge.

"Who was it?" he yelled, "own up, who was it?"

"Who was what?" Uhura questioned with the patience of one used to this particular brand of stupidity.

"You know exactly what I mean!"

"Uh, no we don't"

Sulu gulped and slunk lower in his chair.

Jim, having run out of the little patience he actually possessed, decided he didn't care anymore, threw his arms up in defeat and collapsed into his chair.

"Well it doesn't matter," he announced, "because I'll beat him anyway. Points or no stupid points." At Uhura's disbelieving look he quickly became defensive.

"What?"

She shook her head, "nothing."

"Hmmph," he crossed his arms and begun swinging around in his chair. There really was something quite cathartic about this chair, he mused, perhaps it had something to do with the soft, leathery, texture that somehow managed to simultaneously feel like the comfiest plushy cushion one could ever sit upon. Or perhaps it was the simple, yet undeniable, fact that it was the captain's chair and he was sitting upon it…therefore making him, undeniably, captain of said chair (and all that came along with it). Oh yeah, he _owned _it. Even better, everyone _knew _he owned it. In fact, he reasoned, the chair's appeal was partly in that only he could sit upon it. Unless, of course, he was rendered incapable of captaincy, in which case Spock would sit upon it.

'_I bet Spock would love that'_, he frowned, that just wouldn't do. He decided to begin formulating plans to keep Spock from ever experiencing the pleasure that was his chair. Half an hour passed. He glanced at the science station. Spock, who had quietly snuck in during his diabolical scheming, was, for all intents and purposes, focused on his work. Jim knew better. What else could he be doing save formulating new ways to humiliate Jim while still remaining the stoic Vulcan in the minds of the crew. What else indeed? (certainly not his _job_). No matter. Jim would outsmart and out scheme him. It was only a matter of time. Jim checked his watch and groaned; a matter of a _lot_ of time. Still, long, boring, captainly shifts were good for two things; spinning in THE comfy chair, and planning Spock's downfall. Actually, they were good for three; spinning in THE comfy chair, planning Spock's downfall, and taunting one's subordinates. In particular, of course, one's Vulcan, and self-proclaimed, arch-enemy (even if said arch-enemy was mostly unaware of his updated status).

On a sudden impulse, Jim leapt off his comfy chair and strode over to the science station, slung an arm around Spock's shoulders, and lent over so all Spock could see was the back of his head, and waited for some kind of acknowledgement that would mean he had won this silent battle for…pride. None was forthcoming. Jim frowned. He _knew _Spock was uncomfortable about physical contact so surely he was super uncomfortable so why didn't he say something. He waited, and waited, and waited, and after about half a minute he decided he was done waiting.

"So Spock," he began, turning his head slightly so he could observe the half-Vulcan's reaction "anything interesting happening over here?"

"Nothing that I am aware of, Captain," Spock replied, seemingly unfazed by the fact that Jim's cheek was mere centimetres away from his nose. Jim knew better, of course.

"Oh, what a pity," Jim mock-sighed, "and I was so hoping for something interesting…oh well," he spun around and sat himself on Spock's desk, "guess I'll just have to amuse myself over here."

Spock raised an eyebrow, said nothing, and returned to his work. Or at least, he tried to. It was, however, made a little more difficult by the fact that Jim was currently sitting _on _his work. Still, to Jim's frustration, he said nothing, only continuing his work, it seemed, in his head.

'_Bloody, smart, genius Vulcan, doing work in his head'. Okay, no worries, I'll just…distract him. _

"So Spock," he began again, fiddling with various buttons, "if, for some unknown reason, the Enterprise was…oh I dunno, gonna explode or something, and you could save one person – or thing – what would it be?"

As expected, Spock said nothing, this time not even pausing to raise his eyebrow. _Oh no, _Jim thought, _no one ignores me. _He kicked his feet up and rested them on Spock's shoulder, continuing the one-sided conversation.

"I think I'd save my chair, I mean it's such a nice chair. Just a look at it. Oh come on, you know you want to sit in it. _I _know you want to sit in it. Everyone wants to sit in it because it's such a nice chair. And I know what you're thinking, _how illogical, and like you, to want to save an inanimate object with no sentimental or monetary value, instead of your best friend McCoy_, but I think McCoy would understand that this chair is a part of me now. It's like I found my soul mate in a chair."

At this Spock raised his eyebrow and deigned to respond.

"Captain, with all due respect, that is most illogical and as you humans say, pathetic, as chairs do not possess souls."

Jim affected a shocked and hurt look, "don't say that, you'll hurt his feelings!" He quickly assured the chair that Spock was delusional and had no idea what he was talking about, and yes he would definitely remember to clean it sometime in the next few days.

Spock didn't raise his eyebrow this time because it hadn't yet come back down. Instead he simply remarked that he was sure McCoy would not in fact understand Jim's sentimental attachment to the chair, nor his decision to save it's 'life' (despite the fact that it didn't even have one) over his, as he was currently standing at the door of the bridge sporting a furious expression. Scowling, Jim resigned himself to the fact that Spock had, yet again, beaten him in their battle of wits, allowing himself a brief "I'll get you, and your little dog too," and trudged over to face the music. Needless to say, Spock spent several hours puzzling over that last retort before Uhura shoved a copy of the Wizard of Oz at him and told him to go read it. An hour later he reported to sick bay and told McCoy he thought Jim was hallucinating a small furry animal.

_All in all_, Jim thought, _today was a complete and utter failure_. Not only had he been silently and verbally shot down by Spock on two separate occasions, but he had also been forced to endure several scans and hyposprays due to his extremely literal First Officer's interpretation of his parting retort. Day 1 was officially unsuccessful. He even had a memo to prove it.

A/N: Let me know if you guys have any ideas for Jim's diabolical plans…


End file.
